Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
BELLAMY
No. No. No.
This couldn’t be happening. Not to me.
But here we fucking were, and when his lips crashed to mine, I knew it was, in fact, a reality. I couldn’t dream it up if I tried. How had I gone from the arms of one enemy to the other in a blink of an eye?
Adam Ferrari.
He was dead. At least that’s what the world thought. But if that was true, how could he be standing before me? His grotesque face demanding attention as he ordered me to be his? Could I do it? Could I be the bride of a man like him? I was doubtful. But given the circumstances, I had no choice.
His goon tossed me over his shoulder before I could recover from the unexpected kiss, not giving me a chance to say goodbye to my family before he had me out into the open air, kicking and screaming about just how unjust the situation was. He didn’t listen. Neither of them did.
“Should we wait for Ace?” The vibration of the words radiated through my body as the man who carried me spoke.
“He’ll ride with Drew.” Adam, apparently my new husband, spoke. His voice was so much rougher than I was used to. It was oddly lulling. “I’ll drive.”
“Good.” The man snorted. “I don’t think your hellcat would stop abusing me long enough to allow me the honor.”
“Put me down!” I screamed, knowing not a single person would dare come to my aid, but the position he held me in made me nauseous, and I was growing lightheaded.
“You wish, princess.” The jackass laughed, and I pounded into his back extra hard, hoping to cause at least a bruise.
“Please,” I begged. “I just want to?—“
Only I never finished that sentence because what did I want to do? Go home? To the father who all but cast me out for a situation out of my control? A father who offered me up to the enemy to save face when the enemy caused it all to begin with? What good was a truce when it was formed in deceptions and lies?
At least now I knew that what I saw is what I got.
A monster.
“Should we gag her?” the manhandler asked Ferrari.
I paused in my assault to look up at him as he followed us, a keyring causally spinning on his finger. Our eyes collided and instantly I looked away. “She’ll behave.” How could he be so sure? I was always one to rebel. But before I asked, he added, “She made the choice: her life for her father’s.”
Was it really a choice, though? It was done under duress, after all. Still, I behaved until the brute pitched me forward a few minutes later, laying me flat in the back of a luxury car before he climbed in next to me, pushing the layers of fabric aside to make room.
Ferrari climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the door. “The child locks are on, wife.” The word dripped with disgust. “Don’t try to escape.”
With the acid that churned in my stomach right now, threatening to project at any second, I had no plans to escape. It would be useless anyway. His men were everywhere, crowding out of the church full of people I’d never met. If I tried to run, surely one of them would capture me and bring me back.
“You sick?” the brute next to me asked before he leaned over to speak to Ferrari. “She’s not looking so hot. Get me some ginger candy from the glove box.”
Ferrari raised a brow as he pulled onto the street, but kept his eyes on the road as he leaned over and flipped open the glove box. His hand fumbled around blindly before he finally latched on to something and offered it to the brute over my shoulder. He took it with a quick thanks before he turned to me, offering what was in his hand.
I didn’t take it, and he growled his impatience. “It’s not poison. It will settle your stomach.”
I wished it was that simple.
“Your captives get carsick often?” I responded.
“You’re not my captive.”
“What am I?” I prompted.
“You’re his captive. Now take the candy. It will help. I just got this thing detailed.”
All the more reason for me to undetail it. Still, I reached over and took the candy before unwrapping it and popping it into my mouth. I will admit, it eased the sickness bubbling inside.
After a few minutes of silence, he offered, “Ace gets carsick if he isn’t driving. They help.”
I didn’t respond, but I was thankful to Ace. I wondered if I could snag a few of those to go, but I wouldn’t ask. I refused to ask these men for anything.
The drive seemed endless. The city faded to suburbs, the suburbs to country, and during this drive, Ferrari hadn’t said a single word. In fact, the silence in the car was deafening, so damn quiet I almost wanted to speak. To fill the rest of the drive with endless chatter, just so I didn’t feel as uncomfortable. I was about to cave, about to offer a temporary truce, when we turned through a metal gate and drove up toward a massive house.
“This is our home,” the brute informed me. Our? He lived here too?
But a closer look around informed me he wasn’t the only one. Small cottages dotted the property, tucked into the landscape of overgrown weeds and trees past needing trimming. The grass was nearly two feet high and swayed gently in the breeze.
The car stopped, and without a single glance, Ferrari got out, slamming his door as he stomped up the steps, leaving me in the brute's care. “He’s just… it will take adjusting is all. He hadn’t planned to take you.”
“Yet here I am.” I spread my arms wide.
“Sometimes the temptation for revenge is too much to pass up. He’s earned it.” He looked sad for a moment. “We all have.”
“Revenge has nothing to do with me.” I bit my lip, refusing to cry.
“Maybe not, but sometimes innocent people are caught in the crossfire. Come on, you can’t stay in here all day.”
I could if they let me. There was nothing for me in that massive house, that was for sure. But when he offered his hand to help me out, I took it, even if it went against everything my body was screaming at me to do. He pulled me out of the car door, which wasn’t even child locked, then slammed the door shut. There was no going back. We walked two steps away before he stopped and opened the passenger seat, reached into the glove box, and took out more candy. He offered them to me, like they would make up for the fact that I was a prisoner. I took them begrudgingly because, damn it, they eased the discomfort.
He didn’t rush me up the steps, only waited silently as I slowly walked up, and I made it excruciatingly slow. I didn’t want to go through those doors. When I did, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see the other side again. Would he let me out? Or would I be locked in a room, never to see the light of day again?
I wanted to ask, but the man next to me, well, he’d killed a man without a single blink. I couldn’t trust him, couldn’t trust a single word he said. Anything spoken would only be to pacify me in this moment, and while I could see the desire and need to do so, I couldn’t let them take pieces of me so willingly. I couldn’t let them take my will or my fight.
I’d escape this place.
“If you run, the property borders are patrolled and fenced. You won’t even make it ten feet out of the house,” he informed me, and I had no clue how he knew what I was thinking.
“I wasn’t going to run,” I lied.
“You think I’m to believe you would just roll over and give up? Not the way you were pounding on my back at the church.”
I hated that he had a point.
The gate in the distance squeaked as it opened for a train of cars, and I froze as I watched all the men coming toward us. All the enemies. All my jailers.
“It won’t be so bad. He’s fair, believe that. He won’t treat you badly.”
“He killed men,” I pointed out, my voice so weak as fear creeped in, already digging into my bones.
“We all have. Doesn’t mean we are bad people; just means we protect what we care about.”
Protect what they cared about… except I’d known them all of an hour, if I could even use the word known. They didn’t care about me. I was a pawn on a chessboard, a game piece to be used to win.
“You don’t know me.” I buried my fingers in the silk of my dress, clinging tightly to the only thing I could, the only thing I took with me into this place.
“Doesn’t mean you aren’t ours to protect. Come on, little girl, it’s chilly out, and I’d hate for you to catch a cold.” He turned his back on me just as the cars pulled to a stop in the driveway.
Little girl. I was hardly a girl any longer. I was twenty-three years old. An adult by every standard. How dare this man insult me. I chased after him, catching up as he crossed the threshold. “I’m not a little girl.”
“Prove it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I stuttered the words out.
“Exactly what it sounds like.” He raised a brow as he looked at me over his shoulder. “I’ll show you to your room. You can get a tour later.”
“But—“
“Despite what you think, I’m not your babysitter,” he cut me off. “Little girl.”
I could stomp my feet at how condescending he was. “I’m not a little girl.”
“Then stop sniveling about your situation and make the most of it.” He turned right down a hallway, the path leading us to a dark, ill-lit passage. “Our rooms are in this wing.”
“Am I … sharing?” My heart throbbed. The thought that I would have to lie with that man never crossed my mind. I didn’t want it. Didn’t want to wake up every morning to his grotesque face looking at me. Or see his scarred fingers against my skin. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t handle it.
He ignored my question. “Adam’s room is at the end of the hall. Yours will be to the right. My room is next to yours. Across from yours is Ace’s. Do not sneak out at night, we’ll hear you. And if, by chance, one of us doesn’t, the guards, alarms, and cameras will all pick up on you.” He pushed open the door, and I stopped in front of it, afraid to enter. When I didn’t, I swore he muttered “little girl” under his breath, before he stepped in first. “Dinner is at six, don’t be late. Tomorrow, we’ll get you an official tour, but just… stay out of the west wing. No one is allowed there.”
“Why?”
“Stay out.” He stepped out of the room before reaching in and pulling the door closed. Right before it slammed, he added, “Six o’clock. Don’t be late.”
The room was uncomfortably silent, even when the sound on the other side of the door was bustling as men left their cars and entered. I stood there in the silence, unsure if I should cry. I wanted to, but I didn’t think it would do much to help my situation. The guy was right. I could act like a child, or I could accept the circumstances and figure it out from there. I had no choice but to figure it out, because my position wouldn’t allow me to be here for long.
It wasn’t safe.
Surely, if he knew, he’d take me back to my father, right? Even if my future husband was dead.
No one would want me like this unless it would benefit him, and there were no benefits here.
As if my thoughts summoned the discomfort, my stomach pitched, causing me to grip the wall before I could collapse. This wasn’t good. This had to be the worst-case scenario. As much as I wanted to tell him, and I should tell him… given the reputation of the men in this house, I could die. It was risky. But then again, wasn’t my life already risky?
I fumbled forward, letting my eyes settle over my new room for the first time. It was large. Bigger than I would have thought for a prison cell. In the center, there was a canopy bed, with a white comforter and gray throw pillows. The pillars of the bed framed a massive black-and-white photo of a rose garden, the flowers fully in bloom. Beside the bed was a nightstand and a dresser, but the room was absent of any personal touches.
On shaky legs, I used the wall to guide me until I found a doorway leading to a bathroom with marble flooring, chrome fixtures, and a massive jet tub nestled in the corner next to a shower stall. It was a nice bathroom, nicer than the one at my father’s house. As a prisoner, I could do worse.
I didn’t allow myself much time to browse the bathroom or search the empty walk-in closet. Another pitch of my stomach had me hurtling forward, barely reaching the toilet before the contents were spilled.
Two hours later, laid out on the marble, hugging the porcelain and praying that my life was different, he found me.